From left to right: Geert Van Moorter, assistant manager Dr. Faysal Al Sarraf (our kind host) en Dr. Yamal El Habasi (medical director).

Visiting a number of casualties from last night's bombings.

Iman Ali is a 23-year-old woman. Yesterday, during the onslaught, she was in south Baghdad at home at night. Iman is unable to talk: she is too tired and in severe pain, it is visible in her face.

A relative of hers: 'at 8 pm we heard a blast, the windows were in smithereens. Many of us were in the building , ten people got injured. Iman fell down bleeding from her belly. She had to be operated on. A piece of metal hit her. Part of her intestine had to be removed.'

Rossel Salam, a 10 year-old girl. Hurt on 21 March, in the west end of Baghdad. At about 9 pm she was in her garden. There was a blast and metal splinters were flying about . Her wrist, forearm, hand and breast were hit. She has multiple fractures. A tube has been put in her thorax, her lung was hit and blood has entered  her chest cavity. She is visible in great pain. When we want to take pictures she is very brave. Her dad cautiously removes the blanket to show us her wounds. She is moaning with pain and stretches out her hand, fingers opened. Her dad stoops forward, takes her hand and softly talks to her. I ask her 'how are you feeling?'. 'I am alright', she says but you can see that she is not alright. She is ten and already proud. Her father, 44 with two children, adds: 'we are strong, they cannot bully us and we are going to win'. His morale is clearly not broken, despite his daughter's serious injuries. It may even motivate him more not to have  his country squandered. The Iraqis are proud people with a long history. At school they are taught a lot about the past, they are conscious of their value.

What must this girl think of our world? Can she already understand what it is all about? I should have taken some children's designs. I will do that tomorrow.

(While I am typing this, at 10.30 pm, heavy bombs are coming down again, heavy explosions, the floor vibrates, vibrations shaking the concrete. No more lights on either side of the Tigris. They must have destroyed an electricity power station. How many victims now, how many Rossels, Dogas, Imans,…damn, they continue dropping heavy bombs, farther away this time but you can feel it even here, a dull explosion and a vibration in the air. It is weird, eery now. I cannot see very well from my window because of the darkness. Only a while ago the city was beautifully and defiantly illuminated. I could see a tower then, a replica of the tower of Babel in Samara, beautifully illuminated. A block of flats in a halo. It was nice. Now it is all gone, large stretches of darkness across the stream. What fear again for the families living over there! Just try to explain to your kids. Food in the fridges at home and in the shops will decay soon. There are already shortages, prices have gone up. Things will not improve. A generator starts turning in our hotel. How long will there be fuel for it? The population does not have generators. What a serious war aim, an electricity power station! Vital for the people. Again a crime against humanity perpetrated by Bush and Blair, supported logistically via the port of Antwerp. Thank you Belgian government. Go on for a few more days, discussing the pros and cons of forbidding the transports of arms. You ministers and parties appear to have all the time for talking. The people in Iraq have no time left: they have to find ways of surviving. In the meantime the lights are on again in the streets, apparently an emergency generator. The houses remain in the dark however.)

Sabri Khaled, a 45-year-old man. Hit in the neck after 10 pm yesterday. He was lucky. If the metal fragment had hit him a little deeper his artery would have been torn and he would not have survived.

He is half unconscious. A member of the Baath party, helping in a patrol of civilians to guard a bank.

Salah Mehdi, 42. Married with a little daughter. The only casualty in his family. He was sitting in front of his house when it happened. Metal fragments entering his belly. Operated. Four fragments of metal have been removed from his belly. Two drains, tubes have been put in his abdomen, to drain the blood. His wife: 'I am content with the hospital and I trust them.' Pride again.

Sahad Asan, 10. Hurt yesterday at about 9 pm while at home. Twelve people were hit at the same time in that neighbourhood. Injuries on both legs and in his belly. He has a drain in his belly. He is visibly in great pain. Weah, his 25-year-old cousin is angry with us: 'why are you here? don't you see it is terrible enough as it is?' Doctor Faysal rebukes him, we don't understand him, but we get the gist of his words. Faysal explains that the man takes us for journalists and does not understand  why we are here.

Colette reacts saying that she perfectly understands this man's anger. Nevertheless we try to explain everywhere what is our purpose: to let the world know the cruelties of this war, in order to stimulate more and more resistance against it. We say that we are here for solidarity with Iraq, not just as spectators, we say that we are sympathetic with them, that we…but we do understand this man's anger.

Damn, imagine one of my little nephews injured like that, I would not be able to always control myself either.  Yesterday, for instance, I was shouting 'bastards', but I checked myself as I was filming. Colette was also shouting. But she used the term 'fascists', which is more correct. Indeed, these are fascist methods to try and subdue a people and country. I try to transform my anger into energy to fight the inhuman system in which we are living. That is why I try to send a report like this each night: I want to give you 'munitions' to use against this war.  I want the world to know this; I want the world to react. Apparently this anger helps me to find the energy to make do with 4 to 5 hours of sleep. Provided I do not get exhausted, but for the time being I keep going.

I could carry on describing patients, their injuries on all parts of their bodies…we saw about 20 injured people. A number still at the intensive care ward, others taken to other hospitals or discharged.

And then I am only talking about a certain number of civilian casualties and about those who arrived at the hospital alive. We do not get any data about the troops; they have their own hospitals. But many of them must have been killed already. The bombings that we saw relatively close by were of government buildings defended by

anti-aircraft guns. They are of not much use against those cruise missiles. The Americans have dropped bombs on a house of Saddam's wife and on a museum. Their aim is to break the will of the people, the soldiers and to destroy the state of Iraq. 

We are warmly welcomed at the wards; people want to show us the filth caused by the war. Colette has to screw up her courage, she finds it hard to take photos of all this.

I take pictures all the same. People have got to learn this. We always say something friendly and encouraging to the injured and their relatives and but for a few exceptions, this is always appreciated. 

Dr. Faysal was clearly satisfied with our visit. We were asked to return, for them it is a kind of relaxation, an occasion for easing the tensions, as opposed to visits from journalists which are on the contrary stressful for both doctors and patients. 

Another doctor asked us to face our medical colleagues in the US and in Great Britain with the situation here, saying: "give them my regards and tell them 'we are burning from the inside' ". (translator's note: this doctor's work is described in Colette's report of 22 March) 

Getting back we tell our taxi driver (in broken English and Arabic and by means of sign language) that we are here in solidarity with the Iraqi people. He refuses to be paid, even when I insist. He kisses me. This is not the first time that we get a token of friendship and warmth like that. It makes us feel so good. I can feel that people really appreciate our presence here. 

More heavy explosions. A little later: fires in the city. It is 3 am, I must get some sleep.